


Etwas Passierte Diese Woche

by Ryntaia



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, kids fic, mentioned gambling, mixed languages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11892537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryntaia/pseuds/Ryntaia
Summary: Kaiba Seto, eleven years old, and learning German from Kaiba Gozuburo. He doesn’t have time to be distracted. Yet for one week, he is.





	Etwas Passierte Diese Woche

 

**Sunday – Sonntag**

            This week, he was learning German.

             Last week it was English. The week before that it was Finnish. It’s all blurring together at this point for Kaiba Seto. In the back of his young mind he already knows that the mush these languages are blending into will infuriate Gozaburo. As if instinct his hand lifted to his neck to caress the marks around it; cuts and bruises from a tightened collar. He has passed out enough to know that his adoptive father is not joking when he pushes the riding crop under his chin and tightens the loop around his collar.

            His eyes blurred; it has only been a year with the megalomaniac but it felt like decades off his life. In the back of his mind he blearily tried to remember why he’s there; faintly he thought of wild black hair and lost dark eyes. A child weak and meek, to protect. Seto grimaced; his folly has put him right out of the frying pan and into the fire. It had taken all he had to distract Gozaburo from Mokuba and even after all of that effort, the man would barely let him see his brother.

            “Sie hat einen Vogal, sie hat niche alle Tassen im Schrank.” He processed his boorish pronunciation of the words in the book before him and shook his head. It wouldn’t do; his accent was still too thickly Japanese. Gozaburo had snapped the riding crop for far less than that. “Nul acht funfzehn…”

            A buzzing sound broke him out of his reverie.

            The young child cautiously strode to the door of the library to catch an entourage of guards rushing down the hall. Glancing back and forth down the hall, he slipped out of his room to creep quietly down the halls. The bodyguards were busy and Gozaburo was likely happily snoring in his sleep—Seto wrinkled his nose at the thought, bidding back a dark feeling that had been growing over the past few months to interrupt his adoptive father’s sleep with a knife in the neck. He never would do that, though.

            It wouldn’t be quite enough.

            Instead he carefully followed after the trope of guards. The back of Seto’s mind questioned his logic; he had work to do, even if it was only Sunday. He couldn’t slack or else there would be consequences to face. But there was that small piece inside him, that very obnoxious annoying child that stomped its feet and demanded to know what was going on. Usually easy to ignore but…well, it was late and he was a bit out of it. So after them he followed.

            Passing through the double doors that lead outside the house, he was greeted with a bit of a strange sight. The massive guards of the Kaiba manor….holding up a small child by the cuff of his shirt as the boy struggled vehemently and swore loudly. Seto wasn’t unused to the sight of the guards hurting children, per se—they would do it to him on Gozaburo’s command—but they rarely would push violence onto children outside of the manor or the KaibaCorp building. Too easy to stir up ugly press if anyone saw the employees harassing children.

            Then again, if the boy’s screaming expletives and obnoxious kicking was any sign, he wasn’t the type who encouraged people to want to be around him. He would’ve thought that any child with common sense would know not to yell and kick at six foot tall men with bulging muscles in suits, but apparently this one either lacked that sense or was arrogant enough to just not care. Judging by his behavior it was possibly a combination of the two.

            “What’s going on?” Seto’s voice was soft and quiet, yet commanding and icy. It sparked some sense of pride in him that it brought pause to all of the men in front of him, cautiously looking backwards at the young heir to the company. After they didn’t answer his question, he pressed on, his tone more demanding. “Did you not hear me? What’s going on here?”

            “Y-young master,” The largest man stumbled over his words, trying to find what to say. The boy dangling from his grip shot him an annoyed look; Seto could see the small hands curling into fists. “We saw this child on the surveillance camera. He was trespassing in the manor’s gardens.”

            “So instead of simply tossing him out, you’re sitting here picking fights with eleven year olds?” Seto said, making the annoyance in his voice as clear as possible. The bodyguards exchanged looks. They were all under the control of Gozaburo yet something about the youthful Kaiba ward made a lot of the housing staff nervous. He liked it better that way, the lot of fools they were. The less they liked him the less likely it was that they would bother him.

            “We thought that, uh, he might be…trouble,” The guard said lamely.

            “You thought that a grade schooler would be trouble.”

            “I, well, it’s possible?”

            “Put him down, you idiot.”

            “Y-yes, young master.”

            The minute the other boy hit the ground, he turned on the heel of his foot and spat at the foot of the bodyguard. Seto’s eyes widened a fraction; did this child have no sense of self-preservation? Apparently not, as he immediately launched forward to kick the massive man in the knee right afterwards. A howl of pain filled the quiet night and a vein of frustration pulsed at Kaiba Seto’s forehead as the odd boy turned to run off through the gardens and towards the gates.

            Before he did, though, he hazarded a glance at the brunette.   

 

**Monday – Montag**

            Hazel. Yes, they were hazel eyes. The color had evaded Seto in the moment that the other boy had glanced at him. He tapped the tip of his mechanical pencil against the paper absentmindedly. It had been a long time since he had felt this unfocused, and his stomach turned at the idea of being caught acting so nonchalant, but his own mind had fixated on the odd happenings of the previous night. The cowardly, idiotic guards and the mysterious boy who seemed to be fueled by pure aggression.

            In retrospect it was more than the aggression. The boy they had caught was, for lack of a better word, a bit unusual. He stood out. Seto hadn’t focused on it the actual evening prior but when he mused on the events, the pieces started to click together. Hazel eyes, those weren’t uncommon, although they leaned more towards that odd shade that looked like the honey that Gozaburo’s maids put in his tea. But the Kaiba family lived in Japan. One could find plenty of hazel-eyed children in Japan, but one could rarely see a _blonde_  child running around haphazardly.

            And so aggressive. American, perhaps.

            But he realized that couldn’t be right either; the child had possessed features that were definitely Japanese. Seto groaned in irritation, trying to focus back on the homework sheet in front of him—he had a good twelve more to finish before noon and yet he had spent a good whole of the morning dwelling on the happenings of the previous night. With a groan, he stood to slam open the window; perhaps some fresh air would clear his mind.

            It didn’t.

            Mostly because down in the garden, crouching by the entrance of the hedge maze, was the same boy from last night.

            Seto could feel irritation pounding at his ears as he stormed downstairs, homework forgotten; none of the maids stopped him, only exchanged worried glances. They knew all too well that the ward of the household was beginning to pick up on Gozaburo’s less desirable tendencies, most particularly his paper thin patience and irritability. If the master of the house wished to do something about it then he could but for now, the house staff let him by without a complaint. The brunette youth was soon standing out in the garden with an incredulous look on his already sharp features.

            The other child was digging around in the hedge.

            “What,” Seto asked slowly, letting his shadow fall over the blonde. “Do you think you are doing back here, exactly?”

            The kid looked up, apparently surprised. Then he stuck his tongue out obstinately, returning to digging through the thick leaves of the hedge maze. Seto fumed internally; he had helped this boy from getting his idiotic self hurt only the night before, and this was how he was going to treat the brunette? This shameless, low bred…

            “Bonkotsu!” Seto snapped. That caught the blonde’s attention; he whipped his head up to glare at the other boy and rose to his feet to step threateningly towards the wealthy heir. Seto didn’t as much as twitch. The intruder was not taller than him and he was not older than him, and chances were that if he wanted to pick a fight that he wouldn’t be able to hold his own. The Kaiba family had already enrolled him in regular self-defense lessons.

            “What’dya call me, huh?!” The blonde barked. “Screw off!”

            “One would think that you’d show some modicum of respect to someone who had HELPED you.” Seto replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot as his crossed his arms and glared harshly at the other. The blonde’s look of annoyance didn’t fade, lower lip jutted out in annoyance, but he didn’t seem to have a retort for that comment. Silence overtook the two boys for a slight moment.

            “….’m lookin’ for my sister’s ball.”

            Seto was a bit thrown off by that. He hadn’t actually expected a reply that was anything but cursing; that was all the blonde kid had done so far anyways. With his voice more controlled, Seto could detect the slightest hints of an accent he couldn’t quite peg—Kansai, maybe? He wasn’t sure. All he could tell was that the boy was kicking his hole filled sneakers back and forth in the dirt that lined the pathway of the hedge maze, eyes squarely focused on his feet. As if he was embarrassed with himself or something. One half of his mind was proud of himself for humiliating the boy. The other half tugged at his chest when he heard the word  _sister_.

            “Was that why you came in last night too?”

            “Well, yeah. She knocked it over earlier and I jumped the gate.”

            “…I see.” Seto took a deep breath. “If its still here then its already been taken inside by the garden staff. It won’t be out here.”

            “Wha…huh? Are you serious?” The blonde gaped stupidly. Seto nodded slowly. “Oh maaaan, are you SERIOUS?! I jumped the goddamn gate twice for nothing!”

            “Come back tomorrow. I’ll…see what I can do.”

            Seto wasn’t sure what had compelled him to say what he said. Maybe it’s the panic in the blonde’s voice, or maybe it’s the little bit at the back of his head that has sympathy for any brother looking out for a sibling. Maybe it’s the fact that the blonde clearly didn’t think any of this through and his idiotic overreacting is charming in its own way. Whatever it is, he received a weird look for it.

            But the blonde nodded anyways.

 

**Tuesday – Dienstag**

            It’s probably the first time that Kaiba Seto had a guest since he and his brother moved in with Gozaburo. Although it’s hard to call the weird kid, whose name he didn’t even know, a guest. The blonde seemed to agree; his eyes were darting back and forth nervously. Judging by the state of the kid’s clothing, Seto could easily figure that the ratty mess had never set foot anywhere near a house as nice as the Kaiba Manor. His earlier insult of ‘bonkotsu’ might have been too generous, even—the boy was so out of his element that it was almost funny.

            “Uh, this place is…uh, big.” The blonde said lamely. Seto nodded, a smile threatening to flicker on his lips. “This is all just for one family? I thought it was a club or somethin’…you like, super rich or something?”

            “My family is quite wealthy.” Seto replied shortly, resting his hand on the cool metal of the doorknob to the garden supplies room. “My…father owns a company that produces a large amount of military technology. It’s quite lucrative. Now, are you coming or not?”

            “Wha…oh, we’re here?”

             _As if he expected us to be walking forever. There’s only so much manor here._

            Behind the door is a bevy of gardening supplies for the always short handed gardening staff. It was impossible to ever be fully staffed for the huge expanse that was the Kaiba Manor gardens. Despite any of this, though, the blonde immediately dove into a pile of the supplies in an effort to find what he wanted. Seto raised an eyebrow; he certainly wasn’t going to find his sister’s ball alongside the garden sheers.

            “If its here then it will be in the basket in the back.”

            Immediately the blonde looked up, nodding determinedly as he dove into the basket. The outsider didn’t have any of the tact that the staff of the manor had. He acted more akin to the wilder children of the orphanage. Seto narrowed his eyes at that; his time now was certainly not pleasant but he had no love lost for that filthy rathole either. The other children behaved like animals, treated THEM like animals, treated Mokuba like a disposable punching bag. It was the determination of desperation to be the last man standing in a hellhole.

            All that had let Seto hold on was his brother.

             _I’m looking for my sister’s ball._

            He paused.

            “What were you and your sister doing over on this side of town?” Seto asked, fingers tightly gripping together behind his back. Like hell he was going to let a stranger see his frustration and confusion. The blonde looked up with his head cocked to one side, then coughed awkwardly into his head. “Well? I believe its fair to say that this isn’t your neighborhood. So why were you loitering around our Manor?”

            “…It’s none of your business.”

            “I won’t let you have your sister’s ball back if you don’t tell me.”

            The blonde paused, irritation scrawled over his features as he looked back to the brunette. Seto didn’t feel particularly proud of himself—his word had come out like a little kid who was upset about not getting the right fast food toy. He had put himself above the child but not by much thanks to his poor delivery. Deep in his head he swore that he’d improve on that; he couldn’t be sounding like a child, even if he was one. It would allow too much potential room for Gozaburo to punish ‘unworthy’ mannerisms.

            “…M’dad dumped us there, alright?” He sighed. “He does it sometimes when he’s really drunk. Are you goddamn happy?”

             _Dumped?_

            Seto suddenly wished he hadn’t pushed the issue. The room went silent for several minutes as he observed the blonde move carefully through the basket, finally bringing up what looked like a pile of deflated rubber. It was hanging off a pair of old and rusty garden sheers that had been out of use for god only knew how long. The rubber had bright pink and yellow patterns across, and what looked like small white cats printed across it.

            The blonde sighed in irritation.

            “Great.”

            “I believe there might be a suitable replacement. I’ll have to check with the staff about it.”

            There he went again, saying things that he never intended to say. Seto felt a bit like a fool under the gaze of this other kid, a feeling he wasn’t quite used to. Despite the other boy’s somewhat punkish behavior and clothing, he had eyes that could drill right into the back of a grown man’s skull. He was somehow both intimidating and not at all, intimidated and yet fearless of the situation he had placed himself in not once but twice.

            “Come back tomorrow.”

             _Was auch immer sein wird, wird sein._

_Whatever will be, will be._

**Wednesday – Mittwoch**

 

            “I didn’t catch your name.”

            Seto blinked as he handed the ball to the blonde boy; it’s an old one that Mokuba used to play with, now replaced with a newer one with some sort of cartoons on it. It wasn’t as if the one he was giving away had any sentimental value. If anything, it had nothing but memories of blood and beatings from orphan fists attached to it, so the brunette was more than willing to give it away. It certainly wasn’t ‘cute white kitties’ like a little girl would prefer but it was something and he dared the brat’s sister to challenge it.

            “And I didn’t catch yours.” Seto replied sharply; it was more of a challenge than it was a genuine question. The blonde raised a brow at this, cocking his head to the side; apparently Seto’s aggression didn’t quite get to him. Carefully he bounced the ball a few times to test it out.

            “I’m not tellin’ you my name, rich boy. You’ll try to sue me for trespassing or something.”

            “I assure you, bonkotsu, if I wanted to do that then I would’ve done it already.” Seto said irritably; the blonde boy bit his lip in frustration. He seemed to really dislike that nickname. The brunette filed the thought to the back of his mind to remember _(the commoner doesn’t like being called a commoner)_  but made no move to apologize. Finally, “If it annoys you so much then just tell me what your name is.”

            “I thought this was to get YOU to tell me YOUR name.”

            “I suppose the odds changed against you, then.”

            “Katsuya. It’s Katsuya.” Seto waited patiently; there was no more. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m not tellin’ you my whole name.”

            “Why not?”

            “It…its not a common last name.”

            He was lying, Seto could tell, but there was no point pushing the issue. It was obvious that  _Katsuya_  was not planning to reveal much of his personal information. Again the brunette found himself wondering why he even cared. Maybe he was just so far removed from other children that actually encountering another boy his age felt near novel. Gozaburo didn’t allow Seto much interaction with other children; the only one he was really allowed to speak to on a regular basis was his younger brother and even that was heavily controlled.

            This was not. Nothing about this felt controlled.

            Seto wasn’t sure he liked that, but then, he wasn’t even really sure what to make of this situation as a whole.

            “Do you like games?” He found himself suddenly saying. Katsuya stopped bouncing the ball in his hands to stare blankly at the brunette. “I mean like card games and board games.”

            “Uhh, I don’t really play board games much…” Katsuya scratched his cheek awkwardly; he clearly was having trouble figuring out why the brunette was keeping him up like this. Seto would’ve liked an answer to that question himself but he was not about to let it show.  “…m’dad taught me some card games, though. I can play blackjack.”

            “I see…”

            Silence. Again.

            “Y’wanna play blackjack?”

            “…I suppose.”

            He should’ve been doing his worksheets, and he knew that. He should’ve been reading those thick German books with their words that sounded like choking on spit. He should’ve been refining his accent in the language and perfecting it for business practices. He should’ve been doing anything other than sitting down in the garden supplies closet to take out the deck of standard cards in his pockets to lay them down and play several rounds of blackjack with this stranger who he barely trusted and who barely trusted him.

            Yet he did anyways.

            Kaiba Seto had been surprising himself a lot, lately.

            The other boy was clearly no prodigy in gaming like he was, though. Certainly it could be said that blackjack was a game of luck in the end but one usually had to utilize some kind of logic and sense to really become good at it. Katsuya seemed to  have streaks of random good luck but his form was sloppy, almost as if his learning of the game was second-hand rather than genuinely taught. He surprised Seto once or twice but never on purpose.

            He ended up playing the blonde enough rounds to get all the way to sunset, though, so there was something to be said for Katsuya anyhow. Somehow, when the boy was leaving, he ended up being invited to come back again.

            Surprising that he would agree without asking for Seto’s name again.

            An unfocused mind, indeed.

 

**Thursday – Donnerstag**

 

            The blonde didn’t come on Thursday.

            Seto couldn’t comprehend it. The boy had come back every time before when he was asked—no, TOLD. Irritation itched at the back of his skull as he scribbled down German phrases. The brunette had gone back to his assignments from Gozaburo almost immediately, as they had been nagging him the entire week. But it was now hard to focus; his mind was going on over the rounds of blackjack and the one or two hands that Katsuya had won. Stressfully trying to remember the details of their little game, mildly remembering how he noticed the sunset because it dappled the blonde of Katsuya’s hair. 

            It was frustrating.

             _Sehr nervig…_ very annoying.

            He couldn’t even figure out why he should care, anyways.

            The assignments still lay half done for hours.

 

**Friday – Freitag**

            “Why didn’t you come yesterday?”

            Katsuya looked up from the blackjack game that Seto had engaged him in again. He wasn’t wearing his usual ratty clothing, now replaced by a suspiciously oversized sweater. It was very ill suiting for the weather—the boy was more than likely sweltering in the heat. Seto wasn’t about to ask questions, though. He already had figured out that Katsuya did what he wanted and wasn’t interested in any questioning towards his actions.

            He did hate when the blonde didn’t answer his questions, though.

            “Katsuya.” He pressed. “ _Erklären._ ”

            The blonde gave him a weird look and Seto had to resist a groan. He had been using German all throughout the day, all throughout the blackjack game, and he had gotten the same glance from the blonde every time he had done it. But he couldn’t focus just on these petty games. He just COULDN’T. He could feel the collar already tightening around his neck just at the thought, the burning riding crop scars on his back protesting at the mere idea.

            Katsuya was still staring at him blankly.

            Seto sighed.

            “ _Explain._ ”

            “Oh. It’s none of your goddamn business. Hit me.” Katsuya said easily, as if he had said the same thing time and time again. His voice was still muffled by the sweater; Seto studied it carefully as he placed another card out in front of the blonde. As Katsuya swore up a storm at his bad luck—pulling a king, putting him way past twenty on—the brunette carefully reached a manicured finger out to pull the sweater away from his face.

            Blood.

            A huge, welting bandage on his cheek that was coated with dried blood.

            His finger snapped back immediately; that imaginary collar around his neck seemed to tighten more as Katsuya slapped his hands across the sweater and pushed it over his face. The cards dropped between them, hitting the floor and echoing in their ears. Seto processed quickly that the blonde was glaring almost homicidally at him now. Defensively, like an animal caught in a trap.

             _Aber Warum…But why?_

             _Nein._

_You aren’t stupid, Seto. You know WHY._

            He played the rest of the game through quietly, not mentioning the sweater or the dried and bloodied wound on the other boy’s cheek. Katsuya seemed to appreciate the withdrawal from discussion.

            It wasn’t like Seto wanted to talk about when Gozaburo hit him, either.

            The hand played through.

            No one won.

            Not really.

            But something tugged at Seto and made that person across from him feel a little less distant, even as he tried to ignore the appreciation in the blonde’s eyes.

             _Komm morgen zurück?_

_Come back tomorrow._

_I’m starting to miss you._

 

**Saturday – Saamstag**

He hadn’t been expected to be summoned to Kaiba Gozaburo’s study first thing in the morning. Certainly, he was expected to have an audience with the man at least once a day for ‘personalized training’. But it wasn’t like the man had any personal interest in either of his sons. Seto was more like a toy for the man to play with as he willed, and Mokuba may as well not be there for all that Gozaburo cared. Though Seto had to admit the latter was probably for the best. The last thing he wanted was Gozaburo focusing his attention on Mokuba.

            Mokuba watched him with huge, fretful black eyes as he entered the polished study of the megalomaniac that he laughably called a parent. Seto turned around to pointedly shut the door in his little brother’s face; the last thing that Mokuba needed was to see whatever it was that Gozaburo had in mind for him. It was cruel but it was what had to be done.

            He tried to remind himself of this as he clicked the lock shut and turned to the middle-aged businessman.

            Gozaburo stood with his back facing the boy, dark against the morning light of the window. One hand held out from his massive body, gesturing the small child forward to stand beside him. Seto swallowed his fear, ignored the tugging sensation that ghosted his neck, and strode up as confidently as he could to stand aside the intimidating creature that called itself his ‘father’ now.

One thick hand grasped tightly—too tightly—on his shoulder. Seto bit back the sensation of pain as he stared out the window with Gozaburo. They looked out on the garden that faced towards the gate, down at the hedge maze that Seto had been in just a few days ago. Down at the doorstop where, in this early morning light, no one stood.

            “Your friend is coming, Seto.”

            His resolve was immediately chipped at.

            Katsuya was standing at the gate—he had just arrived—and was being spoken to by one of the maids. Their conversation didn’t seem to be unpleasant but considering where he was, Seto could only have a bad feeling about the direction this was about to go. Especially as Gozaburo’s grip on his shoulder increased to a near burning level.

            “Hold out your hand, Seto.”

            He obliged the older man, biting his lip furiously and narrowing his dark blue eyes. In his hands Gozaburo placed a small button controller. Seto looked at it curiously, unable to control a feeling of discomfort twisting up in his stomach. He hazarded a quick glance at his adoptive father; he wore a smirk across his aging features, malevolence gleaming in his eyes.

            His grip tightened.

            “Report the child to security, Seto. He’s trespassing.”

            “No he’s not, I invited—”

            “No, Seto. You didn’t. Because if you did, then you have failed to learn a damn thing.” Gozaburo interrupted. The brunette felt as if his shoulder was about to dislocate with the grip held on him. “You are a Kaiba. That down there is a commoner. Your duty is to present me with what I need, do the work I require of you, and become worthy of this name. That down there has nothing to do with any of it so therefore, has nothing to do with you.”

            “What…”

            The hand on his shoulder loosened, rubbed Seto’s sore arm almost soothingly; somehow this was even more unnerving. He clutched the remote in his hand tightly as he looked down on the maid and the blonde child. He still was wearing that ungainly sweater, covering that sore on his face. But…

            “You know, the more time you spend with  _other children_  the less time you have to spend on my lessons. If you’re that unworthy than perhaps I’ll switch my focus to Mokuba.”

            He pressed down on the remote with his thumb, hard.

            In a way he could say he didn’t want to see this, that Gozaburo had held him there against his will. But he hadn’t. With dull, fading blue eyes he watched over the whole ordeal as blood splattered and the wound on the blonde’s cheek tore open again. Spit and blood was left where the boy had been talking with the maid, now left aghast as the guards bodily threw Katsuya out the gate of the Kaiba Manor. He could say he didn’t watch all of this of his own will.

            He could say that.

            But he wouldn’t.

            Because watching it helped what was left of him die.

            “A Kaiba shouldn’t be interacting with the common people. You have so much more that you have to do to prove yourself to me, Seto.”

            He was silent for a moment. Then…

            “ _Da liegt der Hund begraben._ ”

            Gozaburo chuckled darkly.

            “How morose.”

_That’s where the dog is buried._

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title roughly translates to 'Something Happened This Week'. The phrases Kaiba is saying on Sunday are basically just German catchphrases, both of which mean something related to an insane or less than intelligent woman. I am NOT fluent in German so excuse any issues with the German text.


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